


Just a Little Holiday Trinket

by LilyOrchard, MikailaT



Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [17]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gift, Holiday, Sentiment, charm bracelet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyOrchard/pseuds/LilyOrchard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikailaT/pseuds/MikailaT
Summary: It's that time of year where the people of the Horde send charm bracelets to their leaders to show their appreciation. A simple trinket for a silly tradition.
Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939501
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Just a Little Holiday Trinket

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little thing we whipped up to be melancholy.

**Year 27 - Shortly Before the Lich King's Awakening**

The Love Celebration in Orgrimmar was always a strange time for the city. Seeing the thatched roofs and stone buildings decorated in bright pink hearts as the Crown Chemical Co flagged their various wares and perfumes. It was interesting to see how many people were earnestly taking part in such a schamltzy festival.

“I must say this is quite a peculiar time to be visiting the Horde capital for the first time,” Lor’themar said, amusement clear in his voice. It was true that the Sin’dorei’s annexation into the Horde was still fairly new. The only members of the Sin’dorei to have visited the orc kingdoms at this point were Darkflare and Ambassador Sunsorrow. 

Anevay and Lor’themar were taking in the sights as they made their way to Grommash Hold. But just outside the hold, lining the Valley of Wisdom, were five poles erected with dishes at the bottom. At the front of each one was the crest of each Horde territory. The Icon of Battle for Durotar, the Icon of Shadows for the Darkspear, the Icon of the Earth Mother for Mulgore, the Icon of Torment for Lordearon, and the Icon of Blood for Quel’thalas. All of them, save for the Icon of Torment, had a few charm bracelets resting in their dish.

“Hey there, Champion!” one goblin waved to Anevay, beckoning her over.

“Champion?” Anevay arched a brow as she approached, Lor’themar sighing and following. “Since when did people start calling me that?”

“Word travels fast around the Horde, ma’am,” the goblin said with a grin. “And your accomplishments have been the talk of the town!”

“I wouldn’t listen to him, Darkflare,” Lor’themar said plainly, narrowing his eyes at the goblin. “He’s just buttering you up to sell you something!” 

“Oh I’m not here to sell anything, sir Regent Lord!” the goblin insisted. “Everything I have to offer is absolutely free!”

“What is it?” Anevay asked, tilting her head.

“It’s been a tradition for the last two years during the love celebration to give charm bracelets to the Horde’s leaders. People wanted to show their appreciation for the ones who protect and guide them. We used to let them deliver them personally but there were… complaints,” the goblin chuckled. “So instead people drop them here, write their names on them, and they’re delivered at the end of the festival. So how ‘bout it? Anyone in the Horde you want to give a token of appreciation to?”

Anevay glanced at the dishes, noticing that Lordaeron’s, and by extension Sylvanas’, was completely empty.

“Yes actually, I would,” she smiled.

“Oh, Darkflare,” Lor’themar bemoaned, having traced where Anevay’s sight fell. “You aren’t seriously going to do this are you?” 

“What?” Anevay glanced at him as she accepted the bracelet and started writing her name on the tag that was attached. “It’s a harmless little trinket, what’s the big deal?”

“A trinket to show that you care!” the goblin supplied. “Though I suppose she doesn’t need a trinket to prove that, am I right, Regent Lord?” 

“What are you-?” Mismatched eyes widened with realization at what he was suggesting. “Oh, no no no! It is not like that at all!”

Anevay glanced between Lor’themar and the goblin before catching their meaning and snickered. “Oh that’s rich! No, we’re not… we’re not like that.”

“No? Well that’s a shame,” the goblin said. “You two would make a handsome couple.” 

Lor’themar winced at that. “Anar’alah, please stop talking!”

Anevay only snickered before tossing the bracelet onto the pole behind the Icon of Torment. It spun a few times before sliding down into the dish. “I like you, you have a great sense of humor about you,” she smiled at the goblin.

“Much obliged, ma’am,” the goblin nodded, his eyes falling to where she tossed the bracelet. “Oh? A Charm for the Banshee Queen? Can’t say I’ve ever seen that before.” 

Anevay only smiled wider. “Me and her have a history.”

“ _ Had  _ a history,” Lor’themar corrected.

Anevay turned back with a scowl. “You don’t just erase history, Lor’themar. History isn’t a past tense.”

“Everything in history is literally in the past tense, Darkflare,” Lor’themar huffed. “The difference here is that you do not have any current relationship with Sylvanas. Therefore, you  _ had _ a history.” 

“Well not for lack of trying, Theron,” Anevay huffed. “Why are you so uptight about this?”

“I am trying to encourage our people to look ahead towards a bright future rather than just burying their heads in the past,” Lor’themar said plainly. “I understand you wish for things to return to normal with you and Sylvanas because she’s familiar, but things have changed since then. Also, if you’ve already tried and failed, I doubt Sylvanas will appreciate you trying again.”

“Well, I’d say it’s a bit too late for that, Regent Lord,” the goblin shrugged. “The trinket’s been tossed.”

“Look, it’s just a little holiday trinket,” Anevay shrugged. “There’s no reason to make a big deal out of it. And I’m allowed to lament a friendship ending at my own pace. Sylvanas isn’t  _ dead  _ dead, she just doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s not the same kind of grieving, so just get off my back already or let me retire like I wanted to.”

Lor’themar frowned, lines of disapproval growing on his face. There was a beat of tension between them before he began to turn from the kiosk. “Come on, then,” he said. “The Warchief is still expecting us.” 

“Thank you,” Anevay sighed in exasperation.

* * *

“Dark Lady?” Kalira asked as she approached the throne. “A courier from the Crown Chemical Co is here to see you.”

Sylvanas looked up from the report in her hands, a slight furrow forming in her brow. Crown Chemical? She did not recall having any business with goblins arranged for today. Unless some Apothecaries had arranged a deal regarding the creation of their weapon without her knowledge. If that was the case, then someone's head was going to roll before the day was done.

“...Send them in,” she commanded, her voice quiet yet powerful.

A goblin woman wearing a pink and white uniform nervously stepped inside and approached the throne. “Greetings, your Majesty,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth. “I’ve got a parcel for you from the festival in Orgrimmar.”

“Festival?” Sylvanas arched a long brow. “What festival would that be?” 

“...The love festival?” the goblin explained. “Every year we have it? There’s a whole event where people give charm bracelets to the Horde’s leaders.”

Ah. Well that certainly explained a few things. A festival where people celebrate love with offerings to the Horde leadership. No wonder Sylvanas hadn’t been made aware of it. She knew none of her Forsaken would have indulged in such a thing, and who among the living would ever think to give such a token to the Banshee Queen? A cold, dead thing that only possessed a cruel mockery of the beauty she had in life.

Silently she held a hand out, and the goblin handed her the parcel before excusing herself and departing. It was a small box, with what looked like a single tally marker on the top with her name on it. She propped open the lid and looked inside. There was a single charm bracelet resting at the bottom of a clay dish.

A single token of admiration from someone who saw fit to partake in this little celebration. A confused frown played at the Dark Lady’s lips. Who would think to give her such a thing over leaders like Thrall, Vol’jin, or Chieftain Bloodhoof? Hell, with the Sin’dorei’s recent inclusion into the Horde, she could imagine that Lor’themar would have to be swimming in these. But who would think to give one to her. 

Her eyes suddenly caught something. A piece of paper turned on its side against the dish. A note perhaps?

As she lifted the bracelet to inspect, she saw it was a tag that was tied to it. Of course. She’d seen these bracelets before in passing. She knew they came with tags from the people who gifted them. She turned it over and read the name.

_ Anevay Darkflare _

Crimson eyes that were narrowed with curiosity suddenly widened with clarity.

Anevay. A dear friend from a lifetime ago. Someone who stumbled into her life a meek and helpless girl desperately trying to escape a bad situation and then would go on to become one of the greatest Farstriders Sylvanas ever trained. The sole survivor of her squadron during the fall of Silvermoon. She heard that Anevay even managed to be recognized as Champion of the Sin’dorei in recent events. 

Sylvanas had seen Anevay a handful of times since becoming undead. First when she sought to reconnect with the lost loved ones who had become Forsaken. Again, when she arrived to deliver an amulet to Sylvanas herself. An amulet that was given to her long ago by Alleria. Neither encounter went particularly well for Anevay as she was fiercely demanded to leave each time. 

To say Anevay hadn’t been welcome in the Undercity was an understatement. She’d gained something of a reputation as a meddler, and possible fetishist after her encounter with Alina became public knowledge. Everyone believed she had ulterior motives for trying to return. Her second visit had also spread through gossip due to Sylvanas’ rather egregious slip. But this time the gossip had been that she was extremely dejected as she was leaving.

And here Anevay was again, still trying to reach out. Was this girl ever going to learn her lesson? Or would she just keep trying? Sylvanas wasn’t sure.

The urge to crush the bracelet came to mind. To just clamp it in her fist and allow her necrotic magic to make it wither into ash. It would certainly be easy. Darkflare would likely never know, but Sylvanas couldn’t allow herself to encourage this kind of behavior. Even if the only one to prove anything to was herself. 

A beat passed. The bracelet remained intact in her palm. 

“...Dark Lady? Are you alright?” Kalira asked. The Dark Rangers were watching her intently, becoming concerned by the conflicted and… almost angry look on their Queen’s face at the sight of a simple holiday trinket.

Sylvanas bristled. In her moment of introspection, she somehow had forgotten that she wasn’t alone. 

“ _ I am fine _ ,” she said curtly, lowering her hand while still holding onto the bracelet. 

The Dark Rangers glanced at each other before one grew rather bold. “So… who’s it from?” Anya asked innocently.

“...No one I recognize,” Sylvanas lied, a warning edge in her voice. “It doesn’t matter. A paltry trinket for a silly holiday. No use dwelling on it.” 

The Rangers looked at each other again and shrugged, deciding that was the end of it.  Sylvanas stuck the bracelet in her cloak and sighed. This wasn’t necessarily troubling, just… irritating. She had thought Darkflare would get the message eventually, but alas she’d been wrong about that. The girl was still doing these foolish things.

It was no matter. She wouldn’t trouble herself with the deranged thoughts of a girl who couldn’t take no for an answer.  



End file.
